Aaron's Thanksgiving
by Dr Alice
Summary: Martha and Aaron's Thanksgiving is disrupted by an emergency at the White House. Aaron has to work against a tight deadline to help prevent an assassination. A quick one-shot inspired by the holiday.


_Here's a one-shot Martha and Aaron story for Thanksgiving. For those of you playing along at home, this takes place during the first part of "Em and Aaron" (before they retire to Texas). Hope you enjoy!_

"I can't believe it, Martha. You've got everything so well organized! Most of the time on Thanksgiving I'm tearing around the kitchen like mad." Trish Cardona shook her head in admiration.

"A lot of the credit goes to Aaron. This is the first Thanksgiving I've really cooked in years and I was incredibly nervous. He's been helping me all week, getting the dining room table ready and polishing the silver. We picked up the desserts and did some of the prep work yesterday to make it easier." Martha smiled. "The payoff is he gets to watch football with Jon in peace."

Trish chuckled. "A nice, laid-back Thanksgiving. Who'd have thought that was even possible." She peered through the oven door at the turkey, browning somewhat unevenly. "Do you think –" her question was interrupted by the chime of two pagers going off in unison. "Oh, no."

The drone of the football announcer coming from the living room ended abruptly; Aaron's voice replaced it. The two women stood listening to his conversation, dreading what was coming. Their hopes for a quiet holiday were quickly dashed when they heard: "Yes, sir. We'll be in as soon as possible."

A moment later Jon and Aaron appeared. Their wives, arms akimbo, glared at them in unison. "I thought you didn't have to go in," Martha began accusingly.

"We weren't supposed to," Jon responded, "but something's come up."

"Like I haven't heard _that_ before!" Trish responded. "Honestly, does it have to be you? Isn't there anybody else?"

"That was the director of CTU Washington. He says they have urgent information of a high-level terrorist threat, possibly to the White House. He informed the President, and the President wants us to come in. We don't have much choice." Aaron raised an eyebrow at his wife. Martha sighed in response.

"Yes, yes, I know. Do you have any idea when you'll be back?"

"I wish I did. I'll call you as soon as I do. Worst case, we can have dinner tomorrow – but I hope we won't have to do that." Aaron gave Martha a swift kiss. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." He headed to the door and beckoned to Jon, who was whispering what was no doubt a heartfelt apology in his wife's ear.

"It happens." Martha patted Trish on the shoulder. "Maybe it's karmic payback. I've probably caused a lot of disrupted holidays for the Service in the past."

"But why so sudden? Nothing's going on at the White House that I've heard about. Maybe we should turn on the news." Trish headed for the television. A minute or so later she had tuned it to one of the cable news channels and was eyeing the news crawl at the bottom. Martha lingered to check the oven and joined her a minute later.

"I think the turkey will be done in another half hour. I'm going to hold off on the potatoes. We may have to stick everything else in the fridge."

"The boys won't mind about that. I just hope they aren't going into anything dangerous."

"You're right. Dinner is the least of our worries." The conversation broke off as the announcer stated, "Breaking news: The Department of Homeland Security has raised the terror level to Orange. There are street closures in the Federal District, and all passengers out of Reagan International Airport will be subject to higher levels of search. Stay tuned for our traffic updates…"

"Oh, my God," Trish muttered. "They weren't kidding. Martha, sometimes I get so scared…"

"Me, too. Aaron's been through enough as it is, so has Jon. When they got promoted I thought our days of being worried about them were over."

"They're probably enjoying this," Trish commented sardonically. "You know, that adrenalin rush, being on the front lines, working with the glamour boys at CTU. Jon used to joke that CTU got all the fun."

"You're probably right." Martha tried to control the qualm in her stomach, thinking of the times Aaron had risked his life in the past. She stifled her urge to get up and pace the floor. "I guess it's a waiting game for now. What should we do?"

Trish cast about for a neutral topic. "Tell me about this ranch you've bought. Is your stepson still living there?"

"Yes, Nathan seems to have settled in really well." Martha was happy to talk about Nathan and their plans to convert the ranch to raising grapes. Trish, it turned out, had a cousin whose hobby was winemaking and this soon led to a discussion of the grape varieties he preferred to use, as well as the current state of the wine market. Martha was jotting down the cousin's email address when the phone rang.

"Hello?" she asked eagerly. "Oh, Gertrude, how are you? It's my mother-in-law," she whispered to her guest. "How's your Thanksgiving?… I'm afraid Aaron's not here. There's been an emergency and he got called in. Everything's ready, but we had to postpone dinner. You remember Jon and Trish Cardona, from the wedding? Jon got called in too and Trish is here with me."

After a few minutes' chat Martha ended the call, explaining that she was waiting to hear from Aaron. "I'll be sure and tell him you called. Say hi to Nathan for me." Her shoulders slumped in disappointment as she hung up. "I guess it was too much to hope they could get things settled in an hour."

* * *

A tense conference was in progress at the White House when Aaron and Jon arrived. The conference room usually used by the Secret Service was in disarray, half full of CTU agents and hastily set up communications equipment. Gary Irvin, chief agent of the Washington branch of CTU, was staring intently at a computer display; the staff member who had ushered them in tapped him on the arm to get his attention.

"You're here, gentlemen. Glad to see you." Irvin, a compact bundle of energy (he was slightly shorter than Jon), had headed CTU Washington for about two years. He had worked with the Service on more than one occasion and was generally respected for his ability to get results. His freewheeling management style would not have fitted in the Secret Service, but he was well-suited to the world of counterterrorism.

"What's the problem?" Aaron asked as Irvin waved them to chairs.

"It's Mohammad Allawi. You've probably heard about him; he's the Minister of Energy from one of the Arab Emirates."

"Yes, he's been in town all week. Meeting with the Secretary of State about oil contracts or something. Is he the threat?"

"No, he's the target. Allawi is one of the few Arabic politicians open to the idea of alternative energy sources. With all the sun they get in the Middle East, he's pushing solar energy in a big way. The established families who've gotten rich off oil aren't big on this idea; they just want to keep drilling wells and counting their money."

"But the oil won't last forever," Jon pointed out.

"Exactly. Allawi's trying to look ahead. He's got engineering training, actually worked for a living before he went into politics. He knows what he's talking about. The Emir was smart to appoint him, but he's made a lot of enemies just by telling people things they don't want to hear." Irvin paused. "The President wanted to show his support for Allawi's ideas, so he –"

"Invited him to Thanksgiving dinner," Aaron finished grimly. "We were informed, of course, but it didn't seem to be a high risk situation. Just another diplomatic function."

"At 0430 this morning one of my agents on the overnight shift picked up some chatter. We're familiar with some of their code. There were references to 'Eagle,' 'Turkey,' 'Vulture' and the phrase 'the time is now.' 'Vulture' refers to Allawi. 'Eagle,' of course, is their name for the President. 'Turkey' –" Irvin raised his eyebrows.

"Thanksgiving," Jon muttered. "At least they didn't say 'Duck.' As in sitting."

"That's truer than you think, Agent Cardona. Minister Allawi and the President are giving a speech on the South Lawn in about half an hour, just before dinner is scheduled to start."

Aaron and Jon glanced at each other, startled. "We didn't hear anything about this!"

"Apparently it was a very last-minute decision on the part of the President. Allawi asked him for permission to speak earlier today. He really wants the opportunity to speak about alternative energy in a friendlier environment than the U.A.E. As I said, they're giving the speech on the South Lawn. If someone's going to take a crack at Allawi, it seems to me the speech is the logical time to do it. We've set up a perimeter, the streets are blocked off, the usual; I think we have the situation under control. The reporters are the regular White House press pool, nobody we don't know. But the president wanted you informed and he wanted you involved. Any ideas you have, I'd welcome."

"Okay. Jon and I will go over and take a look at the setup, see if we can come up with anything."

* * *

Cardona shifted nervously from foot to foot, watching Aaron. In his deliberate way the chief agent had inspected the podium and sighted down the South Lawn as Jon spoke with the Service agents assigned to inspect the press pool. Neither of them had found anything. Jon was eager to call it a day and return to their disrupted Thanksgiving dinner, but Aaron was still frowning and staring into the middle distance. Cardona had an uneasy feeling that he had missed something, but had no idea what it might be.

"Something doesn't fit."

"I've got that feeling myself, Aaron. But I'm not sure what it is that doesn't fit."

"It was something Irvin said. Timing. They picked up the chatter very early this morning. But the President only made the decision on the speech a couple of hours ago. How could that be?"

"He said – wait. He said Allawi had been looking for a chance to speak. What if he drafted the speech ahead of time?" Their eyes met in sudden understanding.

"It's an inside job. Got to be. Let's find Irvin, and do it fast."

"Agent Irvin!" Jon made an effort to tone down the urgency in his voice. "Agent Pierce would like to speak to you." He waved the CTU man into the hallway.

"Yes, what is it?" Irvin was trying to mask the impatience in his voice.

"Does Allawi travel with an entourage?"

"Of course. Everybody in the Middle East does, it seems."

"Is there anybody he's particularly close to?" Aaron asked, struck by a sudden idea.

"His cousin. Second cousin, I think. He insists on being next to Minister Allawi at all times. I think the Minister confides in him more than anybody else."

"He's your man. I'm sure of it."

"How can you possibly say that?"

Aaron quickly explained the discrepancy between the timing of the chatter CTU had overheard and the announcement of the speech. Irvin agreed instantly.

"Damn! I should have picked up on that myself. So, Allawi talks to his cousin, probably tells him he's certain he'll get to do the speech."

"And the cousin makes his own plans," finished Cardona. "How do we get him away from the Minister?"

"Oh, we'll take care of that." Irvin looked determined. "The speech starts in five minutes. If you'd like to explain things to the President, gentlemen, I will make sure the Minister goes unharmed."

* * *

"And that was it," Jon ended with a shrug. "CTU had the Minister's cousin surrounded and cut him out of the crowd without anybody noticing. He's in custody now. I understand they found a knife on him."

"Incredible." Martha shook her head. "I'm glad you both were there, even if it meant postponing Thanksgiving."

"But it was just a few hours," Aaron reminded her. "And everything is delicious." Jon, his mouth full, nodded in confirmation. "You did a great job, both of you."

"Did you get a chance to see the dining room at the White House?" Trish asked eagerly. "How'd it look?"

"Oh, the usual. Seventeen pieces of silverware and three glasses at every place setting." Jon chuckled. "Believe me, this is better."

"Well, let's have a toast." Martha raised her glass. "To the Secret Service, home of the smartest men in the country."

"To the Service!" everyone at the table echoed, as they clinked their glasses.


End file.
